


Spider-Woman Origins

by 9VaniaStein9



Series: Spider-Woman, AKA, If Michelle Was Bitten By The Spider [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Abuse, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Origin Story, Angst, Bullet wound, Child Abuse, Drunk Driver, Drunk Driving, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Family Abuse, Fluff, Foster home, Foster homes, Gen, Guns, High School is next year, If Michelle Jones was Spider-Woman, If Michelle was bitten by the spider, If Michelle was bitten by the spider that bit Peter, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Little Brothers, Loss, Michelle is Spider-Woman, Michelle rocks, Michelle!Spider-Woman, Michelle's dad dies, Michelle's dad is a good guy, Michelle's mother is terrible, Middle School, Minor Character Death, Ned Leeds is a Good Bro, Neglect, No Smut, Pain, Partner Abuse, Past Abuse, Past Child Abuse, Peter Parker is a Good Bro, Peter is a friend, Peter is not Spider-Man, Physical Abuse, Police Brutality, Semi-major character death, Spider-Man Origin Story, Spider-Woman Origin Story, Spiders, Spoilers, Superheroes, Uncle Ben dies, Vegetarian Michelle in this fic, Vegetarians & Vegans, Vigilante, Webbing, author ships Spideychelle but is waiting and wants to keep fairly consistent with canon, bullet wounds, domestic abuse, drunk, drunk people, drunk person - Freeform, drunks, he dies though, if Michelle was Spider-Woman, it's for the story, loss of a loved one, loss of a parental figure, possibly vegan, second semester, set before Spider-Man: Homecoming, smutless, smutphobic, so does Uncle Ben, superhero, they're in middle school, webs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-15
Updated: 2019-02-02
Packaged: 2019-03-31 16:30:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 9,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13979085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/9VaniaStein9/pseuds/9VaniaStein9
Summary: With great power comes great responsibility, Uncle Ben had said, but what if the power never made it to Peter Parker? What if it was Michelle Jones who was bitten by the spider?





	1. Jones Should Be More Careful, Shouldn't She?

**Author's Note:**

> This idea has been in my head for a while, and I've been writing bits and pieces, but I'm finally posting the first chapter.  
> I don't think that I really wanted a Spider-Man origin story with Tom Holland before, but then I saw Tom in Civil War and I really want one now, so, I started to write one, and this follows the same story arc, but that one hasn't been posted--or possibly even written yet. The spoilers from that shouldn't be out, which makes this easier to read. The main difference is that Michelle was bitten, not Peter, and that's how Spider-Man didn't appear, but Spider-Woman did.  
> Don't worry, Peter is the second main character in this, because Tom is fantastic, and Peter Parker is My Baby. Peter is still a genius, and he helps Michelle out a lot. Also, Spider-Woman wouldn't have her web fluid or web shooters without him, so.  
> I know that Spider-Woman isn't the same as Spider-Man, but if Spider-Man isn't there, and it's another character that's a girl getting bitten, I'm not going to keep it as Spider-Girl, as I feel like Michelle would not stand for that.  
> (Spider-Woman: Homecoming will hopefully be out after this fic, but Civil War might be posted first, as that happens first.)  
> Sorry for ranting.  
> Thanks for reading, and please give me feedback! You know, if you want.

Someone with curly hair, baggy clothes, and a heavy backpack heads to the next designated class, (it's gym this time, which makes the student want to hide in the janitor's closet until the class is done,) ignoring the occasional looks that are cast.

The boy can't be more than fourteen, his small body a target for bullying, his brain being one of the reasons.

He's smart, and that's putting it simply, even in the school that he has been accepted into for the next school year. This is middle school--full of teenage angst, Axe body spray, and sweat, as well as the scents of paper, dust, and chalk.

This boy is just trying to make it to high school, where he has been given a scholarship so that his uncle and aunt won't have to pay for his tuition.

An anonymous person paid for it, and that's one less thing for his family to worry about.

This is school, and, unfortunately for him, his next class is gym, where there will be a test.

The Pacer Test.

"Puny Parker!" A mean voice echoes down the hall, causing the boy to sigh.

Peter Parker--that's his name, no matter what the voice says--walks faster.

"Hey, what's up, man?" The owner of the voice says as he slams him into a locker door. "Feeling all right? You look a little rumpled. Here, let me help you get cozy."

Flash—the owner of the voice, whose real name is Eugene, but that’s not the point—opens a locker that was left ajar and tries to shove Peter in it, throwing his backpack to the floor as he does, where it is trampled by his feet.

"Please, my robotics project is in there!" Peter exclaims, not worrying about how he is being shoved into a locker—again.

"Oh, your robotics project? Let me see what a great job you did!"

Flash opens the backpack, holding it out of Peter's reach, as Peter still hasn't had his big growth spurt.

To make it worse, he takes Peter’s glasses and sets them on his head, causing Peter to see blurs instead of solid shapes.

"Please, Flash! I promised my uncle!”

"Man, this sucks," Flash says, looking at what Peter made, the glasses set skewed on his slicked hair. "A glorified toaster."

"Flash,” Peter says, finally going for it, sick and tired of being picked on. "Give it back, or I'll scream your real name, and there’ll be a teacher here in five seconds flat!”

Peter has lost enough fights to know that if this gets physical, chances are that he'll lose, but Flash hates his name, and that’s enough blackmail to have a chance.

"Do, and I'll shove this junk so far down your throat, you'll become a cyborg."

"One, two...” Peter says, steadily growing louder. “Three! Eu-"

Flash throws the robot at Peter, effectively causing him to stop shouting, also throwing his glasses.

Peter catches the glasses, but the robot falls.

A hand snatches it out of the air before it can hit, and Peter blinks as his eyes focus on the person's face.

The very bored face.

"Go to class before you're not allowed to graduate, Eugene," she says in a low tone, and Flash gives a fake grin.

"Sure thing, Jones."

Once Flash leaves, Michelle shoves the robot at Peter, making sure that he catches it even as she shoves her nose back into her book.

"Gym's in forty seconds," she says, walking at a pace that is fast only because of her long legs.

"Thanks," Peter says, catching up to her in the gymnasium, his bag slung over one shoulder, his project held carefully in his hands, his glasses askew.

"Whatever," Michelle says.

-

It's been three and a half weeks since that incident, and Peter has mostly let it go, but Michelle keeps tabs on everyone in the school, and that just went in her mental list on Parker.

"And here we have the sixth-floor labs. Does anyone know what this scientist is doing?"

Peter's hand shoots right up.

"Yes?"

"She's taking skin cell samples."

"That is correct. Can anyone guess why?"

Peter's hand shoots up again, but there are other students that are willing to participate in this discussion.

"That's right," the tour guide says, smiling when a student gets the right answer. "Oscorp is on its way to regrow limbs, just like some animals do. If you'll follow me down this hall, we're going to show you a video about it."

Michelle follows the rest of the group, but stays in the back, wanting her book.

A door opens just as Flash tries to trip Peter, and Michelle blocks it, ending up falling, and Flash looks away at the wrong time as she falls—so that he can truthfully say that he didn’t see how she fell, and, _Oh, Jones should be more careful, shouldn’t she?_ —so the tour guide, students, teachers, and scientist who just left the room miss her fall into the open doorway. She crashes into the small area before it closes, so the locking mechanism does not engage before she makes it in.

With her fall, she ends up crashing into a tank of webbing, getting caught as she tries to escape. It isn't super strong, but as she inhales, some of it catches in her mouth, and she chokes, the webbing sticking to her throat.

Panic hits her when she sees the hundreds of spiders crawling on the webbing that she just crashed into, and she skids to the door, pushing, pulling everything she can, but it won't budge.

If there is one kind of creature that she hates touching, it’s _spiders_.

She pushes an emergency button, hoping that it will release her, but it causes the lights to flash and the sprinklers to go off, and it's ten seconds of pain before the door opens, and she joins the mass of people rushing for an exit.

She scrambles to get the webbing off, and she does so just before she spots her teacher, but all she does is usher Michelle back in line with the other kids, waiting outside as other people pour out from the building.

And none of them knows that Michelle is to blame.

-

That night, after she had been home for hours, had taken the longest shower she's had in years, and locked herself in her room, Michelle tried to read until she fell asleep, even though it had been hours of staring at the same page.

Nothing made sense, and her head felt worse than when she fell and hit her head on the steps when she was six.

She eventually fell asleep, and the fever started to take over.


	2. Fever, Strength, Abs, and Jeffrey

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please give me feedback.

The fever lasted three days. The first night was spent without anyone else knowing, as Michelle finally fell asleep before she knew that she had one. The first morning was spent ignoring her alarm as her head felt like explosions were ripping it apart, but she couldn't bear to turn off the alarm, as her energy was almost gone. Her mother tried to get her up, but went frantic when she felt her temperature.

She went to the doctor that day, but the medicine they gave her didn't help.

She slept, drank water, was forced to eat crackers, and only left her bed to go to the bathroom.

When she was conscious, she flinched at most sounds, and was not very restrained in her strength when smacking people away from touching her in her fever state. She hid under her blankets, and tried to keep her eyes squeezed shut, even though she was sweating without the blankets, and still feeling cold with the quilt.

She napped on and off, but even small sounds woke her, and her sleeping never lasted long.

-

The fever broke just before bed on the third day of it. Michelle was still hot, exhausted, and feeling like she was freezing, but her temperature was almost normal.

By the time she woke up the following morning, she felt fine.

Great, even.

She practically hops out of bed and heads straight for her dresser, where—despite what other people may think—she keeps her clothes neat and tidy.

No, she doesn’t care about presentation when she’s wearing them, but it bugs her when they’re messed up in their drawers or closet.

Her room is clean, even if her appearance looks like she doesn’t care about tidiness.

It depends on what it is.

She grabbed clothes and a towel, and then went straight to the bathroom.

She tries to close the door softly—she doesn't want to socialize just yet—but when she does, the inside handle breaks off.

Michelle stares at it, wondering if she's dreaming, but when she turns it over in her hand, it feels too real.

_Maybe I'm hallucinating, or in a coma._

She cautiously puts the handle down, sliding the heavy laundry basket in front of the door so that it won’t open accidentally, and then strips, wrapping the towel around herself—after she _freaks out_ mentally upon seeing how absolutely ripped she is all of a sudden, and no, she should be weaker than she is, and the abs that she most certainly did _not_ have before the fever are not helping her mentally, since _they weren’t_ visible before—and then as carefully as she can, turns on the water, adjusting the temperature.

Minus some swear words, her thoughts sound like, _I’m too tired and sweaty to deal with this._

And that is why she took a shower before even deciding what to do next with the handle.

During her shower, she dropped the soap once, and the shampoo twice, but she caught the shampoo when she did, and the soap she just watched fall, because there was no _way_ she going to attempt that.

But somehow, when she dropped the shower supplies, she actually knocked them off, because when they were in her hands, they were surprisingly difficult to let go, as if her hands—and feet—were coated in invisible syrup—which, to her surprise, helped to not fall in the shower.

She scrubbed, but it wouldn’t come off.

She squeezed too hard when she was trying to get shampoo, and ended up with it on the ceiling, which taught her to be more careful, which caused her to get done as soon as possible, being as careful as she could, given the circumstances.

And finally, after she manages to get dressed, she opens the door, putting the laundry basket back where it was, holding the knob in one hand, her laundry wadded up in a ball under one arm.

Michelle makes her escape into her room, shuts the door—carefully—and sets the knob down, puts her laundry in her basket, her towel up to dry, and then sits down on her beanbag, staring at the knob that now sits on her desk.

And, well, what goes on in her head should not be said in polite company.

Her instinct is to go to her dad, until she realizes that then her mom will know, and, a, she doesn’t want to go to the doctor again, and, b, they can’t afford to go to the doctor again right now, and her mother will make her if she knows (because she can't be caught not taking a child to the doctor when it's serious again).

Plus, she doesn’t even know where this came from. It could be alien DNA for all she knows, and yeah, she ponders the notion that that may be the reason why she’s such a weirdo, and she wonders if she’s adopted, but no, that’s stupid, because she looks like her dad, and a tiny bit like her mom, and then Jeffrey’d have to be alien, too—if it’s from birth—because he looks like a little dude version of her, since he’s her little brother, and they have the same mother and father, and an alien family who lives in Queens is so not what she would even want to read in _books_ , let alone letting it be her life.

And then someone knocks on the door—and it's so _loud_ —and Michelle bolts up to answer it, opening it a crack—barely catching herself before she crushes it, but she doesn’t crush the door handle, which is good, because two of these would be even worse—and it’s not her mom.

A legitimate blessing from above.

It’s Jeffrey.

The little dude look-alike of Michelle, who acts like her, talks like her, and thinks like her.

Who is as _observant_ as her.

“You’re alive,” he says.

“Yeah,” she says, forcing her tone to be neutral. “Shocker.”

“Mom’s about to get up, so, warning. Why’s the bathroom doorknob broken?”

Michelle glances back at the knob on her desk.

“Uh… It broke.”

“Duh. _You_ can tell Mom that _you_ did it. Not my fault.”

“What do you want, JJ?”

“I heard you get up earlier, and I wanted to check that you survived your shower.”

“Gee, thanks. As you can see, I’m alive. _Or am I?”_ She says, and then shuts the door, holding her sigh in until she can hear him walk away.

And yes, Michelle takes some time to mentally freak out.

But that only lasts less than thirty seconds before she pulls herself together, schools her face into a false sense of boredom, and walks out, snagging a book for show.

_I’m going to act normal until I figure out what’s happening, even if it kills me._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please tell me if you have any questions, concerns, ideas, etc. I would love to hear from you!  
> Also, I want more Michelle, and she is kind of a mysterious person, and I'm trying not to put too much into her personality that's not what we see, but she probably hides a lot of what she's thinking. I'm thinking about letting Jeffrey know, but we'll see. I think so.  
> Also, Jeffrey's cute. He's a little dude Michelle who's, like, eight.  
> How do you think Michelle'd react to her powers? I don't really enjoy bathroom scenes, but I feel like Michelle would be sick and tired of being fever-y, and would jump at the chance of a shower.  
> Thanks for reading, guys!  
> Have a blessed day!


	3. No School, School, and Mom

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for taking this long! I have some reasons, at least one of them being not wanting to do something involving the fic.  
> Anyway, long chapter. Enjoy!

Morning, sweetie."

"Mmm," she says, her book already six inches from her nose.

Her dad still calls her sweetie. Michelle used to be so open, but then she figured out that the friends she used to have liked to figuratively stab people in the back.

And she literally walked out on them, and now she's wary of people knowing too much about her.

Except for JJ—the mini male version of her—and their dad.

"Are you feeling okay?"

Her dad looks at her face closely, checking for signs of sickness.

"I'm fine."

Her dad checks her temp with his weathered hand, brow scrunched.

"You feel fine."

"Because I am."

"You're not going to school today."

"What? It's Tuesday, right?"

"And you were sick last night. You're not supposed to go in until at least tomorrow, and I wouldn't let you, anyway. Sweetie, you're too precious to waste."

"I'm not a doll."

"You can be a metal doll who can breathe out the spit of a acidic dragon to protect yourself. But this body is supposed to be cared for. I don't want you to end up like me."

"I can take it."

"Doesn't mean you have to. That's why you're going to Midtown when school starts in the fall. You're gonna get a good education and you're gonna help people, just like you want to do."

"Education without school."

"Tomorrow, if you're still feeling well, okay? If you're not sick. All right?"

"Mmm."

 

-

 

The day passed slowly, her mother yelling at her, screaming at her, and moving things.

She needs her pills, Michelle reminds the inner part of herself that's mean.

She gets joking. She understands jokingly calling someone a loser and flipping them off.

Mostly because that's her humor, unless it hurts their feelings, because she's actually the kind of person who hates abuse.

Some people might get that.

Those geeks she sits nearby at lunch might get it, because they're dorks who have gotten into a "yo mama" contest twice in the last week, and it wasn't even their mothers they were talking about because that's a subject neither one wanted to touch.

They did yo mama jokes as Star Wars characters.

Yes, it got interesting.

No, she did not laugh out loud.

They might get her sense of humor.

But this, this is not fun.

Michelle's dad is rarely home, and when he is, her mom is usually with him so he can keep her close and the kids safe.

Her dad doesn't know just how bad it is because he's usually home for about four hours a day to sleep, and that's usually when they're at school.

But they're poor, and there's not a lot Michelle can do about it.

She tells him some, sometimes, but she knows that this is rare. They usually scrape some money together to get the pills.

Tomorrow is payday, as one of her dad's jobs pays on Wednesdays, and then they can buy the medicine for her mom.

And then Michelle and her brother can breathe again.

When Michelle can, she reads, the other parts of the day spent dealing with her mother.

Intermittent Explosive Disorder coupled with OCD, as well as a few other challenges for their mom.

So, Michelle finds herself frowning and living with it until tomorrow.

 

-

 

When tomorrow finally comes, she gets the health check approval from her dad, and, with her backpack mostly packed, she heads towards the kitchen.

Her brother takes this exact moment to walk in.

"Where are my shoes?"

"Your gym ones, or your good ones?" Their dad asks.

"My gym ones are at school, Dad. I need my other ones."

"Where did you see them last?"

"Yesterday after school. I came home and put them by my closet, and now they're missing."

"Aren't they by the hall closet?" Michelle asks, earning her a glare.

"Why would they be by that closet?"

"I thought I saw them."

JJ looks, and then he comes back with them being shoved on his feet as he hops his way to the dining room area.

"Did Mom move them?"

"Maybe."

"Where are JJ's shoes?!?" A frantic voice screeches, and their mom comes tearing out of the hallway like her life depends on it.

"On," JJ hops, shoving a shoe on.

"My..." He says, switching feet.

"Feet!" JJ finishes as he shoves the last one on and stands up straighter.

"Why aren't they in the hallway?"

"I have to go to school."

"I want them in the hallway!"

"Mom, I need shoes to go to school."

"Put them back, Jeffrey!"

"The kids have to go to school, darling," the children's dad says in a clear, firm tone with a sense of love for his wife. "Shoes are mandatory."

"But-"

"Why don't we go and look at the birds on the fire escape?" Their dad suggests, handing Michelle the money for groceries.

They're almost out of food, and this has to last them two weeks.

"Okay."

The woman seemed to be calm and sorrowful, already regretful of her actions, following like a blind mouse pulled along by a string.

Until she begins to think about the shoes.

Michelle's hair on the back of her neck stands up, and then she ducks just in time to avoid the plastic bowl that her mother somehow swiped from the coffee table and threw at her, almost smacking her in the face.

Her dad pulls his wife closer to him, wrapping her in a hug as he stares at Michelle.

"Are you okay?"

Michelle nods, standing up.

"Darling," he says to his wife as she struggles. "We're going on a walk to the doctor, okay? We're going to get your pills, and you'll feel better."

Michelle watches with a forced straight face as her mother tearfully says that she's sorry.

"Love you, kids!" Their dad says before he shuts the door.

Angry cursing and hushed whispers trying to calm the other down.

"That's new."

Their mom has never tried to hurt them before. She's been violent, going for the dad because he let it happen because he loves his wife and he loves his kids and he doesn't want them hurt.

But she targetedMichelle, and it almost hurt her.

Her outrage and outburst almost hurt Michelle.

A sense of dread fills her, and she turns to see JJ, who is trying to look calm.

Only a few years behind Michelle, and he's doing well at keeping his emotions hidden when he wants to.

"Toast?"

"What?"

JJ shakes the remaining bread.

"Toast."

"Yeah."

Michelle digs around in the fridge to break herself out of the mood, looking for her favorite spread that they own.

"Where's the jelly?"

They've got few things in there, and she _still_ can't find it.

"Oh." JJ says, pausing.

Michelle closes the fridge.

"Where did she put it?"

"In the garbage."

Michelle goes to the can, looking inside, hoping that it's at least closed and on top.

They're practically starving, and her mother is throwing away food.

"She dumped it out. She thought you didn't deserve it."

Michelle forces the groan to not leave her mouth.

"This is abuse, and I'm starving."

"You can't be starving when I heard you in the kitchen at three a.m."

"I have an increased metabolism," she replies.

"Since when? You barely eat!"

Michelle ignores that last sentence because she barely eats to let JJ eat, and he still doesn't know that.

JJ takes the silence as an invitation to change the topic of conversation.

"I finished Left Behind."

"Rating?"

Michelle and JJ have a system for rating—books, usually. 13 Districts for a certain book series.

Thus, 13 notches.

1 means terrible, 13 for amazing.

"12 out of 13."

"Good. Why?"

"There are a lot of gratuitous descriptions."

"Yeah, there are a lot of unecessary ones that go too in-depth."

"What are you doing?"

"Grabbing the macaroni."

"You hate the cheese on it."

"It's either this or starve."

She still has to cook it, but she might be able to make it if she hurries.

"Why today?"

"Remember my field trip?"

JJ nods, and Michelle sighs.

She needs an ally.

"I got bitten by a spider. I messed up and got into a restricted room where some scientists would probably use their power to send me to jail or worse if they knew I was in there, and one of their science experiments bit me."

"So... What?"

"That's it."

"And you got an increased metabolism? That's it?"

A knock at the door stops her, and she doesn't even have to put her finger to her lips to tell JJ to be quiet.

"Karen..." A drunk voice slurs. "Let me in, I lost my key."

Michelle sighs, and then wordlessly grabs the bread, some butter packets, and some peanut butter, and then goes to shove them in her backpack.

They aren't allowed to answer the door, and the only people allowed are the parents.

JJ passes her as she packs her bag with stuff she needs for school, heading to her bedroom window.

JJ is half out the window when she gets there, and Michelle pulls out her phone as she shoves some of the stuff at JJ so he can have breakfast.

JJ grabs two pieces of bread and butters them up with the packets of butter she grabbed that were left over from her birthday treat.

As they head down the ladder, Michelle slings the backpack with the rest of the bread and the peanut butter and her textbooks over her shoulder, using one hand to climb as she holds the phone up to her ear.

"911, what's your emergency?"

"There is a drunk man trying to get into apartment 37 of the Eastbrook Apartments."

And with that, she hangs up.

They know it's her. She's called every single day she's been well this week, and they still haven't arrested the guy or at least sent him to rehab.

The hair on the back of Michelle's neck stands up, and her arm is reaching out for JJ almost as he falls.

JJ slips, and Michelle is holding onto him, one hand holding her phone and the rail at the same time, the other holding her brother, only her three fingers keeping them from falling.

She stares at him for a moment before she pulls him up almost effortlessly, bringing them to the same level.

"Are you okay?"

JJ nods shakily, quick and stunned.

"You lifted me! Like an ant!"

"Ants don't lift like that."

"Fine. You caught me, and then you lifted me up. Like a superhero!"

Michelle slaps one hand over his mouth, staring into his eyes to show him that she means this.

"Are you listening?"

JJ nods.

"I am not a superhero. I promise that I will tell you what happened tonight, but you cannot tell anyone this. Not even Dad. Definitely not Mom. I need to talk, and you need to keep it a secret. Sooner or later there's going to be a law that has certain people have to sign it and give away their rights or give up other kinds. I don't want to sign that bill. Okay?"

JJ nods, and Michelle lowers her hand.

"Get going."

JJ gets down from the ladder, and Michelle follows, landing beside him easily.

"What else can you do?"

"I can show you later. Here, take this and move before you miss your train."

"Aren't you going to eat?"

"There's enough there for your breakfast and lunch. Shoo."

She bats him away like an annoying fly, only letting out a breath of frustration when he's a block away.

 

-

 

Her act of staying cool lasted until second period, when her blood sugar seemed to drop like the hammer in a game of whackamole, sending her reeling and her vision going black around the edges.

That's when she made it to the bathroom and her anxiety over what is happening to her made her finally crack and want to punch something.

But she corners Beth in the hallway and asks if she has any food, and Beth is just too busy to miss the very well hidden shaking because Michelle can't even stop shaking long enough to steadily grab the candy bar Beth forks over.

Michelle gives a flippant "thanks" that is forced to sound casual, but Michelle appreciates that candy bar more than she lets herself say.

She scarfs it down in private, making herself look calm when she's in public, and forces her breathing to be calm.

When lunch rolls around, she tries to look like she isn't hungry, but even the cafeteria food smells good to her, and oh, please help me.

Her prayer is answered, and she thanks God before she slips the sandwich—that Ned Leeds slipped her when Peter Parker pretended to trip—into her bag.

She knows that he pretends because he glances at her and then looks relieved when Ned nods at him, as in, _yes, the deed is done, the starving lion has been fed and we can run now._

Michelle leaves about two minutes after, trying to look normal as she walks to the bathroom with her book six inches from her face.

 

-

 

It's the last period of the day, and Michelle is starving.

Botany, where they are examining a drawing of a plant and writing down their answers to certain questions.

They're free to roam right now, which is why Ned can go up to her and give her a trail mix bag.

"Um. This is yours," he says.

"No," she says, even though she wishes it was.

"Yes, it is."

Ned's eyes say it all.

_Please take it. It's for you. I'm trying to be discreet. Please._

"Thanks," she says, and she lets the gratitude slip through as she takes it.

_For this and earlier._

"No problem," he squeaks out, and then turns and goes back to his seat in an awkward, shuffling way.

Michelle opens it and eats it right there, knowing that she can make it.

When she looks up, Flash is giving her a weird look, so, she ignores her homework and draws a caricature of him looking like he's seen the weirdest sight he's ever seen.

And then she shows him it and laughs at him.

Flash calls her a name that makes the teacher frown, and then Flash ignores her, and she is fully content with that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks, tvfanatic97 and everyone else who has read this fic, commented, and/or given kudos!  
> I appreciate feedback.  
> I give the credit to God, who gave me everything I need to do everything I do, including write this fic.  
> Have any suggestions?  
> Have a blessed day!


	4. Are You Ready?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for taking so long to update!  
> I'm sorry it's a short chapter, but hey, it is what it is...  
> Did you know that Black Panther is on Netflix? I found out today!  
> I am planning on going back over the chapters and adding more abuse and less caring mom, so, warning. Might want to read them again, but you don't need to. There will be more abuse in the future.  
> If you have any triggers that involve name-calling, being called worthless, etc., or having to leave a parent abruptly and/or being abused, maybe don't read this?

Michelle listens with her eyes squeezed shut, feeling like a child as she listens to the screaming.

 

She can hear JJ get up, rummaging in his drawers for clothes that he will need, which shouldn't be an issue at two thirty in the morning, but it is.

 

Michelle grabs her bag and gets up, having had this bag packed for months now.

 

The last thing she grabs before she leaves the room is her school bag, which has her homework, phone, charger, wallet, keys, and top three favorite books in it.

 

Her parents don't notice the door opening, nor do they notice JJ's as she goes in.

 

"Are you ready?"

 

JJ nods, but he doesn't respond like she thought he would.

 

A loud crash makes Michelle want to cover her ears because the sound sends a spike of pain into her head, but she just slings her bags onto the floor, orders JJ to stay put, and walks out.

 

Her dad is trying to quiet his wife, but all she does is get louder and beat on him more, shards of glass in the carpet under her feet.

 

Her mother grabs a clay pot and throws it at MJ's head when she sees her, but it only shatters on her forearm when she blocks it.

 

Hot anger rushes through her at the sight, the pot that once said "NOICE—a gift from JJ—smashed to pieces.

 

She looks up with a carefully blank expression, watching her dad rush towards her.

 

"Are you all right?!?"

 

"I'm fine."

 

"Go to JJ's room and stay there until I come get you."

 

Michelle does as she's told, brushing the pot off of her sleeve, rubbing the sore skin, knowing that there will be a bruise.

 

She listens to her mom and dad fight while he packs, her mom calling him worthless and unneeded until he comes to get his children, and then she starts on them.

 

"Michelle, you come back here! You useless brat! You had better stop disobeying me, you little-"

 

Michelle leads JJ out until the door is closed, and then she lets her dad lead the way, not knowing where she is going.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have a blessed day!  
> Have any suggestions?


	5. Get Some Sleep

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry the chapters have been so short, but I'm updating.

"Where are we going?" JJ asks, yawning.

"To Tony's."

"Tony?" Michelle asks. "Mom said he died."

"She lied."

"Makes sense."

Their dad justs sighs and keeps walking down the dimly lit street.

"Where does he live now?" Michelle asks, wanting to know how to get there if something happens.

"Last I heard, three blocks away from Delmar's."

"Really?"

"Delmar's?" JJ says tiredly, already slouching. "That'll take us hours to get there."

"We'd better hurry," Michelle says, walking faster, guiding JJ to stay between her and their dad.

 

~

 

Pounding on the door, Michelle and JJ's dad tries to get someone to answer the door, hopefully Tony.

Finally, it opens, and a dude with a large bat comes out, ready to strike down anyone who starts a fight.

MJ hasn't seen this guy since she was three, but boy, he's not as big as she remembered.

"Who are ya and whaddya want?"

"Tony, it's me."

"John? What're ya doin' here? Where's your wife?"

"She's leavin' me, Tones."

"That's too bad, man."

Tony takes in the sight of the two exhausted children in the hallway.

"These your kids?"

"Yeah, this is MJ and JJ."

"Brother, they got big."

"Tony, man... We need some help. We need a place to stay, just until I can get an apartment, and then we-"

"Before you keep goin', brother..." Tony pauses, looking him up and down. "You good?"

_You clean?_

John nods his head, his grip on his bag tightening.

"I've been good."

_I'm clean._

"All right, brother. Kids can crash in the livin' room on the floor. You and me have been needin' to talk."

Michelle and JJ follow their dad in, both of them waiting until he gives his nod of approval for them to go to the living room.

Michelle has JJ put his pallet in the corner farthest from a door, putting herself closer, spreading her blanket out.

Their dad comes in with a pile of blankets, handing them to Michelle to deal with.

"You're not going to school tomorrow. Get some sleep, okay?"

"Okay," JJ says, grabbing a blanket and putting it under his to keep him padded.

"I mean it, Michelle," John says, giving her a stern look, but it's tired and worried. "I'll fix this, okay?"

Michelle nods, turning without a word to throw a blanket on the couch for her dad and another blanket at JJ, keeping one for herself.

JJ gives her a look and starts to protest, but she doesn't let him get it out.

"JJ, I am not going to fight with you, but I can. Go to bed."

"Fine. I'll take the stupid blanket."

 

~

 

Twenty minutes later, MJ is still awake, not able to block out _every_ word of her dad's conversation.

Drugs, bad parenting, and doing better.

JJ sits up suddenly, making her jump and almost kick him in the face.

"Wait a second, you can hear them!"

"Yes, I can! Now lay down and be quiet before they hear you!"

"I wanna know what they're saying!"

"I don't. Quiet."

"Why can't you tell me?"

"Dad has the right to privacy, and I want to go to bed. Quiet."

"Fine."

"Good night. Again."

"G'night. Love you."

"Mm. Love you, too, J."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!  
> It should get faster soon.  
> Have a blessed day!


	6. I'd Be A Vigilante, If Anything

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning of a scene of being left by parent, and also of a mugging soon after. Thanks!

"Dad?"

Michelle looks at the clock in the corner of the apartment, seeing the time.

"Goodbye, Michelle."

"Where are you going?"

It's too early for him to leave for work, and he's got his bag that he brought here.

"Dad?"

No answer.

"Dad!"

He closes the door of the apartment behind him, leaving her alone.

JJ's pallet is empty, cold and made, as if he'd never been there.

The doorhandle is warm, but the warmth is quickly fading as she tugs on it, the door never budging as she screams for her dad to come back.

 

~

 

Michelle wakes up in a cold sweat, feeling emptiness in her stomach spread through her skin, causing her to shiver and pull her blanket over herself more to keep warm.

She shuts her eyes and tries to breathe, but ends up tossing and turning, too wound up to stay still.

She slips out the window ten minutes later, almost using the door but she's too afraid of it not opening, looking back only once, slipping down the gutter, her feet hitting the pavement with a splash as the water soaks through her thin pant legs.

She's running before she thinks to stop herself, breathing in the night air that is cool and almost feels wet.

 

~

 

When she stops, her breaths are quick and her heartbeats are pounding as she looks around, expecting to be farther from home, but she's only a couple blocks from her apartment.

She starts to walk away, passing apartment buildings that are cramped together, the alleys dark and damp.

The hair on the back of her neck stand up, a chill running through her.

She looks back and sees a man walking about a block behind her, hood pulled up to obscure his face, so she pulls hers up, too, the blue of her hoodie making her stand out, but he already knows she's there, judging by the way he's turning where she is, speeding up to follow.

She stops and turns, the man only about half a block behind her.

"Dude, I'm broke."

"Yeah, right," the dude says, pulling out a knife and walking faster.

Michelle smirks, the hair on the back of her neck still standing in alarm, but she's ready for a fight.

"Get in the alley," he says, as if she would, but the second he's in reach, she snags the knife and kicks him in the crotch, kneeing him in the face when he bends over in pain.

_Thank God for self-defense classes._

With the knife in one hand and the criminal crying on the ground, Michelle readjusts her hoodie on her head, her hair getting in her face enough that she does so, irritated.

"Are you okay?!?" A voice yells, and she can hear feet pounding down some stairs.

_Oh, come on._

She turns to the voice, expecting an adult, but the voice is too high. Maybe a teenager, but-

The boy comes near enough for her to see.

Parker.

"What are you doing here?"

"Michelle? I-I live upstairs!" Peter says, his glasses askew. "I saw you totally beat up that guy!"

"And he's still awake, so, don't get too close until the cops come."

"I-I called them when I saw him following you, and I left it on so they would come because no one answered, but by the time I was going to come down and warn you, he was already pulling out his knife!"

"They're going to be here soon. Just do me a favor and don't tell them who I am."

"W-Why?"

"Because I don't want them to call my dad and take time out of his schedule to deal with this when he doesn't have to!"

"But I have to wake up Uncle Ben and-"

"Promise me you won't tell anyone who I am, Parker."

"But-"

"Parker."

"Fine," he relents.

"Thanks."

"Y-You, uh, might wanna run."

"Yep."

Michelle darts off, leaving the knife behind for evidence, but she uses her hoodie to wipe off her prints before she goes, not wanting to chance it.

She doubles back and peers around a corner, but she can't see much, so she slowly climbs a wall, her fingers sticking to the cold bricks as she stares at the scene, making sure that Peter brings a man out of his apartment to help before she leaves.

 

~

 

She almost climbs through her window before she remembers that she doesn't live there anymore, and she forces herself to climb down and start walking, now too tired to run.

 

~

 

When she gets to Tony's apartment, she's just collapsing into bed—or her pallet, rather—when her dad comes out of another room— she doesn't know which one.

"Dad," she whispers.

"Go to sleep, Michelle."

"I need to talk to-"

"I can't right now; I don't have time. Take care of your brother."

And with that, he leaves the apartment, leaving her to stare at the closed door.

 

~

 

JJ pokes her, then pauses, and pokes her again, this time on the face.

"What do you want?" She asks, rolling over and hiding her face.

"Why are you damp?"

"Why are you so nosey?"

"Because I'm not wet, so, I know that you must've moved somewhere else that was wet."

"I went out last night. Now shut up and let me sleep."

For a moment, she thinks that he's going to.

"When did you come back?"

She groans, loud and long.

"About six. Let me be."

"Why did you leave?"

"I needed some time."

"To think, or to be a hero?"

"To run. And I'd be a vigilante, if anything. Be quiet."

"Cool."

"It's not cool," she says, flipping over to look at him. "Haven't you seen how the Avengers are seen at two thirty in the morning running at night, feeding freakin' pigeons, and just sitting there? Each time they're alone, and each time they look like they just came back from a war. I'm not a hero, and all I want right now is some sleep and for you to just leave it alone. So knock it off."

She flips back over and buries her face in her make-shift pillow of a blanket, ignoring his huff of annoyance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have a blessed day/night!


	7. Eggs and Toast

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm alive! Sorry for the long periods of no updates or even a how-de-do!

"Rise and shine," a voice says, but Michelle ignores it and keeps her face in her pillow, clinging to the pillow by the sides.

"Wake up, MJ," another voice—her brother—says. "Uncle Tony made eggs."

_Uncle Tony?_

Eggs. Oh, my gosh, that sounds good.

But sleep sounds better because getting up requires energy.

She can last longer without food if she's not doing much.

Sleep it is.

"Michelle," that voice says, and she's awake enough to know that it's Tony, but she has her face covered, so she feels safe enough to sleep.

She can't bear to let someone see her face while she's sleeping.

The hairs on the back of her neck stand up, and she rolls over three times to avoid the hit she was about to receive, the pillow still buried in her face.

She sits up and glares at JJ, who is looking down at the pillow that lies where she was in astonishment.

"How'd you do that?"

She glances at Tony and then starts to gather her pallet, pillow first.

"You've done it before."

"When I was six! I haven't done it in years!"

"I know you."

"Still."

"I have eggs and toast on the stove," Tony says, walking into the nearby kitchen. "I'll grab you plates."

"Uncle Tony has butter! Real butter, not the fake stuff!" JJ exclaims in excitement.

"Lots of people can afford it," she responds, pushing her hair back from her face after she sets her blanket and pillow on her backpack.

She turns and gives JJ a look.

"And Uncle Tony? Where'd that come from?"

"We've been talking."

"How long have you been up?"

"An hour."

"That's not a lot of time," she says.

"I don't care," he tells her, a bite in his words.

"Fine."

Michelle makes her way to the bathroom, not bothering to tell JJ to save her some food.

If he eats it all, she'll figure something out.

_Take care of your brother,_ her dad had said.

JJ first. Then herself.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have a blessed day!


	8. A Pink Slip

Michelle keeps an eye on "Uncle Tony", watching him interact with JJ.

Her warning sense doesn't do anything.

She's just suspicious.

Maybe her warning sense wouldn't react to people, just when she's in danger physically?

But that pillow thing wasn't dangerous. It was annoying, sure, but it wasn't dangerous, and it still went off.

But Michelle still watches Tony.

JJ follows him around like a puppy, making Michelle feel sick, but her remarks are kept to a maximum of five for the day, at least until dinnertime, when Michelle has kept inside all day, and she's been watching and hearing this "Uncle" business.

"Why didn't you go to work today?" JJ asks Tony, after he swallows his spaghetti.

"I took the day off."

"You can afford that?"

"I'm a photographer. So, no, not really, but I had a little extra cash set aside for something, but I don't need it. This is more important."

"You take pictures? Of what?"

"News stuff. Mostly crime scenes and accidents."

"Cool. Anything gorey?"

"Not usually."

"Isn't that cool, MJ?"

"I guess."

"What do you like to do, Michelle?" Tony asks.

"Read."

"Anything else?"

"Not really."

"JJ said you like to draw."

"Yeah, well, that's private," she says, looking at JJ, who has his mouth full of spaghetti.

Michelle's is long gone, but she hasn't asked to be excused from the table yet.

She's too used to that.

JJ shrugs.

"It's okay, MJ. We can talk about something else."

"Okay. Why are you being nice to us? What happened between you and our dad? And why is JJ calling you Uncle when we didn't know you yesterday?"

"I'm being nice because I'm a Christian, for one. Your dad and I were best friends growing up, but we had a falling out."

"What happened?"

"You should ask your dad that. And, as for JJ, he came up with that. I told him it was okay to call me Uncle. I don't have any other family, and I care about you two. And your dad."

"Because you're a Christian?"

"I care about you three more than everyone else. Your dad and I became brothers over the years."

"And we're along for the ride?"

"No. You're here because I want to help."

"Thank you for the help," she says, and she is grateful for help. "But I'm not calling you Uncle."

Tony nods in understanding, which ticks her off.

"That's fine," he says.

Michelle stands up, takes her fork and empty plate to the kitchen sink, coming back out when she hears the door open.

Her dad stands there, looking angry.

"What's wrong, Dad?" JJ asks.

He holds up a pink slip, and it feels like ice travels down Michelle's throat until it hits her stomach.

"You were fired?"

"'Let go', as they called it," he says, lowering the paper. "Too much staff."

"At least you have your other job. Maybe they can give you more hours."

"Maybe," he says, ruffling her hair as he walks past her and into another room, shutting the door behind him.

Michelle turns to JJ to comfort him, but he's already turned to Tony, and Tony offers an arm around his shoulder.

JJ doesn't even look at her.

A hard pang hits her chest, and it hurts in a hollow way, and she grabs her jacket, walking toward the door.

"Going out?" Tony asks patiently.

"I'll be back. JJ, call me if you need me. I have my phone and wallet."

She walks out with no one saying another word.

She did try to say something else, (an I love you to JJ that she felt like she needed to say,) but it got stuck in her throat.

It ended up swallowed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have a blessed day!  
> And I know that Michelle is moody. Give her a second, okay?


	9. Mind Your Own Business

Michelle throws an empty takeout container she found at a wall, wishing that it would make a satisfying crashing sound, but it’s disappointing.

She’s mad.

Mad at JJ, mad at Tony, mad at her dad for not taking them out of that situation sooner, and mad at herself for not grabbing more than just her jacket, phone, and wallet before she stormed out.

She’s mad at her mom for being so abusive, and she’s mad that she didn’t bring more from their apartment because she forgot her drawing book, and now she’s stuck with throwing things as her outlet that makes her feel even halfway decent.

She’s also mad at herself for acting like a brat, but that’s on a different level.

She wants her books. She wants her drawing stuff. She wants to go home with JJ and her dad and be able to just go back to the way it was but without her mom.

_I’m such a brat._

The lights are all on, bringing with them a sense of life that isn’t there.

It’s strangely quiet.

Her room is a mess, scattered books and broken glass everywhere, as if someone had taken a bat to everything.

Michelle picks her way through her room, picking up her drawing book and her pencils and pens and her picture of her and JJ throwing water balloons at their dad.

The rest of the apartment is the same, broken things scattered about.

She finds her mother’s wedding ring on the floor, along with shattered glass and torn curtains and other various things.

Michelle picks it up, careful not to break it, staring at it only for a second before she shoves it in her pocket and heads back towards her bedroom to snag a bag.

An extra backpack slung over one shoulder with her stuff in it, she raids the cabinet and refrigerator, getting everything she can that can fit, which is everything with a little room left in the bag because they are so poor.

With a sigh, Michelle closes the bag and looks around once more, grabbing anything that can be of use.

With most of the house smashed, she doesn’t get much, but what she does get—including food—fills two backpacks.

She slips out her window, climbs down the fire escape, and heads down the streets, not willing to go back to Tony’s yet.

She ends up in the park, which isn’t safe, but she doesn’t have a lot of other places to go right now that seem okay to her.

 

She’s been there for over an hour when someone comes by, looking like they haven’t slept in at least two days.

As they come closer, she gets up and quietly climbs a tree, not willing to be seen quite yet by a stranger, one backpack slung over each shoulder.

Her hairs stand up as she stares down at the person now standing directly under her, and her ears pick up another person coming by.

Three people stand under her tree before anyone talks, as if the meeting isn’t allowed to start without the others.

“You got it?”

“Course I do, you think I’d come without it?”

“Give it here.”

One of them hands over a round metal object, slick and smooth and shiny in the moonlight even this late, made completely out of metal from what Michelle can see.

“She’s gonna be here in ten minutes. When she comes around the bend you’re gonna use this on her, I’ll chloroform her, and then we bag her. Got it?”

“I’m not stupid, Harry.”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

“You two shut it. Get ready and wait for my signal.”

 

 

 

Michelle waits in the tree for something to happen, her backpacks stashed in the tree, knowing that the police won’t get there in time, considering the area and its reputation.

Finally, someone can be heard running her way.

Michelle hears it before the thugs do, and she swiftly jumps down on the thug that stayed under her tree, knocking him out before she runs towards the person coming her way, being as silent as possible to avoid being heard.

She sees the woman before she sees her, which means that when she appears, hood down and hair flying, the woman lets out a startled yelp right before she’s tackled into the bushes just in time to avoid the two remaining men from seeing them.

Michelle covers the woman’s mouth before she can scream.

“Those men are trying to kidnap you, _be quiet!_ ”

The woman nods, eyes wide as they both watch the men rush by, looking for her and the person who knocked out their buddy.

“Stay here,” Michelle whispers, rising out of the bushes, feeling like an idiot for doing this.

“Where’re you-”

She shushes her with a single finger to her lips before she turns again and sneaks off to where the men went, hearing their muffled curses and promises that they can’t keep, like how they’re going to kill whoever ruined their kidnapping.

She finds them trying to revive their friend, having given up looking for the woman alone.

There’s a branch perfect for hitting right next to one of them, and it looks promising enough that Michelle risks it, charging for it.

It feels light to her, but it sends the first victim down with one swing, his nose bursting with blood before he can even go down,  rolling until he passes out on his side, and she’s going for the second man before they can do more than yell and stand up.

The second is harder, given the fact that he had a little  w arning, and she’s just barely taken him down when the third one has a gun out and fires.

The hairs on the back of her neck stand up and she’s flipping out of the way of the oncoming bullet, just barely missing it, but she kicks off a tree trunk and kicks the man’s hand, his fingers letting go as he curses.

She grabs the gun and squeezes the end, crushing the barrel, effectively cutting off the bullets’ exit, and then throws the gun at his face.

It hits him square in the nose, and it doesn’t hit hard enough to do too much, but a kick in the groin is closely followed, along with another branch to the head.

Come to think of it, it’s the same branch.

Michelle—heart beating fast, her breaths quickly catching up—drops the branch when she hears the dog barking and police chattering, not too far from where she is, and she must’ve been too busy fighting to hear them because they’re too close to have just heard them otherwise.

She runs, hood still down, hair still wild, and she’s praying that she’s not caught because this is way too close, and it’s only when she sees one of the police lights that she realizes that she’s surrounded, but they don’t know she’s there yet.

Michelle climbs a tree, hiding in the branches as she waits for them to pass by.

A dog barks and leads an officer to her tree, but when the officer’s light shines on her, it isn’t enough to reveal her location.

“Rufus, no one can climb a tree like that. Go get ‘em, go find the gun.”

The dog growls at Michelle, but then goes in search of the gun.

Looking down at the trunk of the tree, Michelle realizes that the only way a normal person could get up this tree would be to act like Mulan and have a rope or something like that. It’s far too wide and there aren’t any low branches that could support their weight.

But she doesn’t get down until the police have been gone for an hour.

 

 

 

By the time she gets home, she’s exhausted, and she knows that she has school tomorrow and she needs to go, but she forces herself to put the food in the fridge, plug in her phone, and set her alarm before she goes to sleep, completely ignoring the fact that she beat the snot--well, blood--out of three men instead of doing what she has been telling herself to do for years.  


Mind your own business and protect JJ.

Then again, she's not the best at minding her own business.

Just look at that kid Parker.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got sick last night, so, while I'm staying home from church, at least I got something done.  
> Have a blessed day!


	10. Jerk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 10! Whoohoo!

She wakes up and groans when JJ is standing above her, hands on his hips.

"Where were you?"

She lets out another groan.

"Michelle."

"I was out," she says. "And you're not my parent, so, knock it off."

"Out where?"

"I was fighting bad guys!" She hisses at him, flicking his leg.

"Ow! Jerk!"

"What time is it?" She asks, rolling her eyes and then squinting at the window, the blinds still down, but the sun shines through anyway.

"Eleven."

"Eleven?!?" She yells, jumping up—literally, about three feet in the air—landing near her backpack, which she slings over her shoulder and throws his at him. "We have to go to school!"

"Dad said he didn't care."

"What do you mean he doesn't care? Where is he? What's he doing?"

"He went to work. He said he might as well go, since now he only has one."

"Why doesn't he care we go?"

"I dunno. He acted like a jerk and smelled like a brewery."

_It's a wonder I didn't wake up from the smell, then._

Michelle grits her teeth and tosses her backpack on the couch.

"Great," she huffs.

"Yeah. I'm gonna go take a shower. Uncle Tony is in the kitchen, so, you might wanna apologize so you won't seem like a jerk all day."

Michelle's mood immediately goes back down, but she bites her tongue.

_He's right._

"Fine."

JJ frowns at her, but he ignores her poorly hidden attitude in favor of a shower.

_Ugh, I need one,_ she thinks when he shuts the door.

 

 

 

Tony sits with a cup of tea at the kitchen table, his laptop in front of him.

"Hey."

She forces casualty into her voice.

"Hey, Michelle," he says, brightening up when he sees her. "JJ left you some Poptarts. I know we don't have much, but I was going to go to the store later and pick some stuff up. JJ said you're a vegetarian?"

"Yeah."

"Cool. So, which kind of vegetarian are you? Eggs and milk, no eggs, no milk?"

"Eggs and milk, no meat."

"Sweet. JJ doesn't have any allergies, but do you? I shoulda asked before, sorry."

Her mind with a sick sense of humor says _bug spray_ , but she squashes that thought.

_Squashes. Haha._

_Shut up, Michelle._

"Shellfish."

"Oh, okay. Just can't eat it, or is touching a problem?"

"I can't eat it. I swell up."

"Okay. I will make sure that if I ever get to that financial bracket where that is on my grocery list, I will not let it be around your food. Hey, wanna see some nice shots I got?"

He turns his computer to show her the pictures he has saved.

"I just touched them up for my boss, and I'm about to drop them off and then go to the store. Do you want to come?"

"No, thanks."

"Okay, well, JJ wants to come, but I want him to stay with you. Let you guys hang out for a bit. I know he's been spending a lot of time with me. Sorry I've been taking a lot of his time. I just wanted his mind off of it all."

Michelle feels terrible now, as if she didn't before.

"I'm sorry I stormed out and was a jerk."

She knows why. She was jealous that this guy suddenly is all nice and has time for JJ and JJ doesn't want her help because Tony is there and can do it all and Michelle doesn't have any help that she feels she can trust because JJ is calling this guy Uncle and her dad is just so busy all the time.

"Hey, I get it. You shoulda seen me when my sister got a boyfriend. Hoo, I got mad, man. She didn't talk to me for a month."

"You have a sister?"

"Yeah, she's a lawyer now. Doesn't talk to me much anymore, still angry at me for what I used to do."

"What did you used to do?"

"I was in a gang. I did drugs, sold 'em, and I vandalised. She never thought that was a good thing, but I did. Guess she was right."

" _You_ did drugs?"

He looks like he's never even seen drugs.

"Yeah, and trust me, it was one of the worst ideas I ever had."

Tony looks at the clock, and then sighs.

"Well, look at the time, I gotta go. You know where the sandwich stuff is, and I saw the food you brought back. Good thinkin', cleaning out that fridge. Your mama wasn't home?"

Michelle shakes her head no, frowning.

"Got everything you wanted?"

"Yeah."

"Okay. I'll be back later. JJ has my number, so, call me if something happens. Don't answer the door, and if you go out, the extra key is taped underneath the mailbox. Lock the door behind you, and make sure you're back by six 'cause I promised JJ he could help me make burgers."

"Okay," she says, mentally making a list.

"Thanks. See ya, kid."

She rolls her eyes after he leaves, wishing he didn't call her kid.

_Way to make me feel like a mature person,_ she thinks, and then rolls her eyes at herself for rolling her eyes, as if that would make her look mature.

_Shut up, Michelle._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any suggestions?  
> I know this is late, but that Far From Home trailer, though.  
> Have a blessed day!

**Author's Note:**

> Have a blessed week!


End file.
